Epiphany
by Do Not Even Try
Summary: I thought my life was pretty good, that I had everything. But I didn’t. Implied Moliver Jake's POV


"How was your day, darling?" 

I stared blindly out the large window. Raindrops spattered noisily against the glass and streaked down like ribbons. The phone rested heavily in my hand. I watched as a branch outside my window smacked into the side of house. I turned my head away from the window and looked at the pieces of paper that were stacked in front of me. 

"Fine. And yours?" 

My mother sighed over the retriever. I sighed with her as I picked up my script and aimlessly flipped through the pages. 

"I got up, ate, and went down to the beach. It's simply lovely down there! You really need to fly down this weekend! Hawaii is amazing. You would really love it." She exclaimed. 

I stopped on a page that looked interesting. I unknowingly began to chew on my fingernails as I progressed further down the page. It was one of my bad habits that I always seemed to unintentionally do while reading. 

"…Friday's are great down at the Purple Coconut--…Leslie Ryan! You better not be biting your fingernails!" 

Her shrill exclamation made me tear my hand away from my face and the script fall on the floor. I exhaled angrily, leaned over, and grabbed it off the dark hardwood floor. 

I sighed again and leaned back against the chair. 

"I wasn't biting my fingernails, Mom. I was reading over my script." I argued. 

"I heard you, young man! What did I tell you about doing that? It's completely unattractive and unsanitary! If you knew how many _germs_accumulate underneath your fingernails you'd think twice about biting them!"

I rolled my eyes. She was so annoying. She can't just boss around a grown man like that! I'm twenty six, not fourteen. 

A sudden yell from outside caught my attention. I froze and listened carefully. I heard it again. I set my script down on my desk.

"…think of everywhere you touch during the day! Doorknobs! _Public bathroom_ doorknobs! And, Leslie, I bet you don't know that sixty-eight percent of American's don't wash their hands after using the restroom! That's a sixty-eight percent chance that you have someone else's bathroom germs underneath your fingernails and that's…."

I pulled back the curtains. I couldn't see anything due to the heavy currant of pouring rain. I squinted, and pressed my face up against the glass. And far off, I could see a small, burly speck of yellow. I immediately associated the size with a child, and the neon yellow a rain jacket. My blood froze. What if the child was screaming from fear? What if someone bad was chasing them in the rain?

"…and you _bite_that! That's seriously disturbing, Leslie. I did _not_ raise you that way! It's-" 

"Mom," I cut her off, "I've got to go. Bye, love you!" 

I pressed end on the phone and tossed it over my shoulder onto the couch. I walked down the short, dark hallway and into the foyer. I grabbed an umbrella, unlocked my door, and stepped out into the rain.

The rain plummeted against the umbrella with wild force. I had to tighten my gripe on the handle to keep it steady. The rough wind harassed the shielding tool and tried to steal it away. My bare feet cried out in pain at the freezing cold temperatures they came in contact with, and my clothes whipped against my skin. 

I could see the small child huddled up at the bottom of my driveway. I fought against the insane winds and struggled down the driveway. Foot by foot, I got closer to the crying and screaming child. 

When I arrived right next to it, I saw the child with better clarity. It was a little girl with long, soaking wet dark brown hair. She clutched a soaking wet book bag in her arms, and tried to stay dry underneath her raincoat. She looked only about five or six. 

My head spun with all the possibilities as to why a child this young was sitting at the foot of my driveway. Was she hurt? Did someone abandon her? Is she lost? 

I hesitantly stuck my hand out and gently touched her shoulder. She jumped and howled out in fear. Her head spun around, and her eyes met me. I was stunned by how bright and blue they were. Even clouded over with tears, they were one of the most beautiful pairs of eyes I'd ever seen. And I worked with movie stars everyday. 

"My name is Jake Ryan," I introduced myself quickly, "are you alright?" 

She stared at me, dumbfounded. She sniffed and her howling cries seized a bit. 

"You're the TV guy." She whispered. I smiled and nodded. She looked down.

"I saw you on the TV. You were fighting the bad guys." 

I kneeled down beside her. "Yes, I was. Now, can you tell me why you're outside in the rain?" 

She shook her head. 

"Are you hurt?" 

She shook her head again. I was confused. Why was a cute, healthy little child outside in the rain by herself?

"Are you lost?" I tried. Again, she shook her head. 

I sighed, and a crack of lightening that illuminated the sky. I stared nervously at the metal umbrella in my hand. I needed to go back inside, but I just couldn't leave this little girl out in the rain. She could get hypothermia and die. 

I took a shot in the dark, "Do you like hot chocolate?" 

The little girl studied me with those suddenly familiar eyes and nodded. 

"If you come inside and get out of the rain, I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate." 

She shook her head, "Mommy says I can never go in a house with a strange man." 

I was about to say something when she said something else, "But I hate mommy right now, so okay TV guy." 

She clumsily climbed to her feet. I sighed in relief, and rose to my feet also. She followed me back up the wet driveway. I struggled to open my door as the wind braced up against it. Finally, after much of a struggle, I opened it. I held it open and let the little girl walk in, then shut the door after her. 

The calm air and warmth of the house startled me. I was so used to the hard rain and violent winds that it took me a minute to get accustomed to it. The little girl seemed more relaxed once she was out of the rain. I closed my umbrella and hung it back on the stand. I looked over at the little girl to see her struggling fiercely with her jacket. 

"Would you like some help?" I asked. She shook her head stubbornly. 

"I…can…get…it!" She said through gritted teeth as she pulled at it. I waited a few moments, and then sighed. She sighed, too, and said,

"Help me, please." I reached over and easily unbuttoned the slippery, rubber jacket for her. She slid it off and neatly hung it on the coat rack like she lived here. I stifled a laugh. Suddenly, a cool draft hit me and I realized I needed to change my wet clothes. 

"I'll be right back, okay? Why don't you stay here and take off those muddy shoes?" 

She nodded, and sat down. I took one last look at her and made my way to my bedroom. I quickly grabbed a clean, dry T-shirt out of the drawer and a pair of sweatpants. I changed and grabbed a towel for her. I would have tried to find something dry for her to change into, but I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable like she had to. 

I ran back to the foyer. She was standing beside her shoes, waiting for me. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward. She was so little, but yet carried this strong aura of intelligence and authority. 

"Come this way." I declared. I walked forward, heading toward the kitchen. I glanced back over my shoulder to see if she was following. She was. 

I led her into the kitchen and told her to sit down at the wooden table in the corner. I placed her in a chair near the fireplace, and lit it quickly so she could get warm. 

After that, I ran quickly into the little office beside the kitchen that my nieces played in. I grabbed a coloring book and a few crayons. 

"Here you go. You can color while I make some hot chocolate." 

Her eyes lit up when she saw the crayons. She grabbed the green. 

"Green!" She squealed in delight, "I love green!" 

I laughed as I walked over to the fridge. Truth be told, I had no idea how to make hot chocolate. But, I did have chocolate milk and a microwave! I grabbed two coffee mugs and filled them two thirds full with chocolate milk. I carefully balanced them in my hand and placed them side by side in the microwave. I pressed two minutes, and started it. That should be long enough. 

I walked back over to the table and sat down across from her. I looked at the picture she was coloring. It was Clifford, with that little girl whose name I can never remember. Emily Eliza or something of that sort. She was coloring pretty good for her age (which I still wasn't sure of). 

"So, what's your name?" I asked casually. She set down her red crayon and looked up at me. 

"Belle."

She went back to coloring. 

"That's pretty. Belle like the French word for beautiful?" I asked, trying to get the conversation started. 

She looked back up at me, "I guess. My mommy said something like that one time. My middle name is Ange." 

I nodded, "Belle Ange. Do you know what that means in French? It means beautiful angel. It sounds to me like your mother loves you very much." 

The little girl shook her head. "Mommy doesn't love me anymore." 

I could tell I was getting close to figuring out where she came from. "Why do you think that?" 

She picked up a blue crayon and avoided my eyes, "She wants a new girl." 

I understood quickly. "Your mother is having another baby?" 

She nodded. "Yes." 

I pieced it together, "So you ran away from home?" 

She looked up to meet my gaze. Again, I was struck by the familiarity of those eyes. She nodded once. 

I let out a sigh of relief. That meant I could get her home safely. I leaned back in my chair to enjoy the heat of the fire.

"What's your last name?" 

She continued to color, "Oken." 

I stopped breathing from shock. 

"Oliver Oken?" I said loudly. Oliver Oken. My crazy classmate from so long ago. Thinking of Oliver made me think of Miley Stewart. I smiled slightly. Miley with her beautiful hair, soft lips, and big blue eyes that could make you melt. Oh how I missed her. I hadn't seen her since high school. Last I'd heard she'd taken a family break from stardom. 

Suddenly, something clicked. Those big blue eyes on the little girl weren't just familiar anymore. They were _known._

"Yes. That's my daddy's name." She said. 

I was afraid to ask. Even though I knew I had to be happy for her, I didn't want to know. But a little part of me did. I looked away from her blue eyes and whispered, "Is your mother Miley?" 

Her eyes met mine in shock. She dropped her brown crayon. 

"How did you know that? Are you a future seer?" 

I rested my head on the table warily. I didn't know why it was bothering me so much now. I hadn't given my high school sweetheart much thought in the last few years. It was just; when I looked at Belle, I could see Oliver's dark hair and Miley's eyes...I shook my head. I didn't have any romantic feeling for Miley anymore, I knew that. I guess I was just shocked. 

"Belle, you should go home to your mom. I bet she's really worried about you." 

Belle shook her head. "She doesn't want me." 

"She does! She just wants you to be happier. So she's making sure you'll always have a companion growing up." 

She glared at me, "Than why is all she and daddy ever talked to me about is the baby! It's the baby this, the baby that…I don't even want that stupid thing!" 

I rested my elbows on the table, "You will though. I remember when my little brother was born. I was so happy! And he's my best friend now. If you run away, you'll be missing out on having a little sister. And the baby will be all alone. Just think about how much you'll miss your mommy and daddy if you never go back." 

That seemed to get her attention. She fell silent, and then her bottom lip stuck out and quivered. I felt panicked. She wasn't going to cry was she! 

"I-It's just that, what if they like the stinky baby better because she's cuter than me? What if they forget about me?" 

I smiled at her, "They could never forget about you! You are positively adorable, and smart too! They wouldn't be able to even if they tried!" 

She smiled and looked down, playing absentmindedly with the crayons. 

"Do you really think so, TV guy?" 

"Of course. And my names Jake Ryan." 

Suddenly, a large yawn emitted from her. Now that I looked at her, she did look tired. 

"Belle, how about you take a nap? I can call your mom and talk to her. If I think she isn't going to love you, I won't make you go home. Okay?" 

She nodded sleepily. Another yawn came from her. 

"Can you carry me, Jake Ryan?" She asked me sleepily. I laughed and got up from the table. I gently picked her up, and she looped her arms around my neck. I carried her up the stairs to my niece's room. I opened the door, and flicked the light on. I set her down on the twin bed, and she yawned again. I stood awkwardly beside the bed. 

"There might be a dry nightgown in the top drawer, if you want to change into something clean. I'll be right downstairs. Uh…call if you need anything." 

I walked out of the room and shut the door. I climbed slowly down the stairs and grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket. I scrolled down my contacts until reaching the number I was looking for. I was hesitant to call her, but the thought of how worried she must be made me pressed send. 

I waited as it rang one time. On the second ring, a very familiar voice picked up breathlessly. 

"Hello!"

I can't explain the rush of feelings that overcame me at hearing that voice. I suddenly thought of her, sitting at home, holding Belle as a baby. I could picture her happy, with all she ever wanted. And she really deserved that. 

"Miley?" I asked quietly. There was a long pause. 

"_Jake_?" She asked disbelievingly. I laughed nervously. 

"Yes. Hey, listen, your daughter, Belle, is here." I blurted out. 

I half expected her to be angry. Thankfully, she let out a sigh of relief, "Thank _God_! You wouldn't believe how worried I've been! How did you find her?" 

I began to relax, "She was sitting outside my house in the driveway. I convinced her to come in and now she's sleeping upstairs in my niece's room." 

"I can't thank you enough!" I heard a voice in the background, then she exclaimed, "Oh, Oliver! Jake Ryan found Belle! Belle's safe!"

I heard the obvious adore in her voice, and smiled sadly. 

She addressed me again, "We'll be over quickly. What's your address?" 

I recited my address to her, said goodbye, and we hung up. Suddenly, I heard a voice from upstairs. 

"Jake Ryan!" Belle called loudly. I quickly ran up the stairs to the room. 

She was sitting up, wearing my niece's nightgown, looking scared. 

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly. She sniffed. 

"I can't sleep without someone in the room." 

I smiled internally, and sat down in the rocking chair beside the bed. She smiled at me and lay back down. It didn't take her long to fall asleep. Soon she was sound asleep, looking very much like an angel. I watched her sleep, very much in a daze. I felt different. It was a feeling I couldn't explain. I felt responsible for her, and I didn't want any harm to come her way. I liked it. 

Much later, I heard the doorbell ring. I unwillingly stood up and walked down the stairs. I walked into the foyer, and opened the door. 

Oliver Oken and his wife, my ex-girlfriend, stood in the doorway. Miley, to my surprise, was indeed pregnant. It shocked me for a moment, but then I remembered my manners. 

"Hi, you guys. It's good to see you again." I shook both their hands and led them inside. 

"Where is she?" Miley asked nervously. Her hair was shorter now, but I liked it. 

"Upstairs. I'll take you to her." 

They followed me as I led them upstairs. I opened the door, and they both bolted for the bed. 

"Belle!" Miley yelled as she threw her arms around her sleeping daughter. Belle woke and seemed confused. But after a moment, she was hugging her parents back with just as much enthusiasm. 

"We missed you so much," Miley cooed, smoothing the little girl's damp hair back. She kissed her forehead. Oliver held Belle in his lap and said, "Don't you ever do that to us ever again!" 

I stood alone in the doorway and watched them. They all seemed so_happy._ I wanted to be happy that way. I wanted to have a wife that was so loving, and a beautiful little girl like Belle. I wanted that more than anything else. The sudden longing left me hurt, because I knew it would take a long time to get what I wanted. 

Oliver's voice brought me from my trance, "Thank you so much, Jake. I don't know how to thank you enough." 

I smiled, "Its fine. No trouble at all." 

Miley shook her head, "No, it is. Maybe we could pay you back somehow?"

"No. I'm fine. Really. She's a wonderful child." 

They beamed in pride. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. Belle yawned again from their arms.

"We better get her home," Oliver said to Miley. She nodded. 

"Jake, we'll call you later. We all need to get together again! If I would have known you lived this close we would have all gone somewhere together long ago. Thank you again!" 

I led them back to the front door. Miley hugged me gently before waving, grabbing Belle's jacket and shoes, and going out to the car. Oliver waited behind with Belle. 

"Bye Jake Ryan," She yawned. Then, suddenly, she held her arms out. I looked at Oliver in confused, but he just shrugged and handed her over. She locked her little arms around my neck again and hugged me. My heart swelled. 

"Thank you." 

I nodded, a lump in my throat. Oliver took her back, and then they were gone. I stared at their car as it drove away. 

I walked in a daze back into the warm kitchen. I opened the microwave after hearing it beep. I stared in surprise at the hot chocolates I forgot. I grabbed both cups and sat at the table. I put mine in front of me, and the other cup where Belle had been sitting. 

I never felt so lonely before in my life. I stared at the empty spot, and I already missed the little girl. I thought my life was pretty good, that I had everything. But I didn't. 

With a sigh, I stood up and threw away Belle's cup. I wouldn't be needing that.

**A/n: Not too sure how I felt about that. Eh. Oh well! please review and tell me your opinion! **


End file.
